


He Fares Well, Honestly

by rea_of_sunshine



Series: My Fare Thee Well [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Adoption, Alternate Universe - Human, Broken Castiel, Castiel Misses Dean, Daddy Castiel, Dead Dean Winchester, Domestic Castiel, Gen, Heartbroken Castiel, Jessica Moore Lives, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 03:41:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4124383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rea_of_sunshine/pseuds/rea_of_sunshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>     Set six years after the events of <em> My Fare Thee Well</em>, Cas has finally found a reason to live without Dean, that being the little girl he's always dreamed of. Cas learns that parenting is hard, rewarding, and more important than anything he's ever done. He also learns that he was wrong to think he could never love another human more than he loved Dean, and his daughter is the one to show him that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Fares Well, Honestly

**Author's Note:**

>       Hey everyone! I wrote this fic as a short sequel to [My Fare Thee Well](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3495878/chapters/7681736), so if you haven't read it, this one probably won't make much sense. 
> 
>       For those of you who did read it and just need a quick refresher, Dean tried to commit suicide and Cas saved him, moved in with him, and fell in love with him. Then Cas died, or so Dean thought, leading Dean to follow through with what he tried all those years before, this time succeeding, leaving the very alive Cas completely alone. Six years after Dean's death is where this fic picks up. Hope you enjoy and as always, kudos and comments are welcomed and appreciated!

     Cas feels Dean’s deep breaths against his shoulder. Cas is warm. He is safe. Dean’s strong arms surround him, hold him even as he sleeps. _I love this man,_ Cas thinks sleepily. He wriggles around in his fiancé’s arms, trying not to wake him. Cas, once Dean’s face is in perfect clarity before him, takes in the sleeping face with sweeping eyes. Cas follows the line of his nose, the spattering of freckles, bringing up a hand to lightly follow in the line of his lips. Dean, after several moments of the light caress, opens his sleepy, green eyes to the night. He blinks at Cas, smiles, and pulls Cas to him, his hands resting over the hook of his shoulder blades. 

     “Didn’ an’one tell you iss creepy watchin’ people sleep?” he slurs, his eyes closed as the grin spreads. Cas tucks himself beneath Dean’s chin and tries to go back to sleep. It’s then that Cas realizes something is wrong. He hurts, not a physical hurt, not something he can go to a doctor to fix. It’s an aching hurt coming from deep within his chest, an itch he cannot scratch. His world is blurry at its edges. 

     “Dean,” he murmurs, because if anyone can make whatever this mess is that Cas has found himself in go away, it’s Dean. Dean hums softly, the sound vibrating his chest and Cas’ entire being. He pulls back to look at his best friend, his fiancé, but for a flash, all he sees is the first time he saw Dean, blood pooling slowly from the corner of his mouth, eyes staring at nothing in the shadow of that bridge, and Cas remembers everything with a rush of panic. He sucks in a breath, tears flooding his eyes. “This is a dream,” he whispers, barely able to get the words out. “He’s dead. Dean is dead.” 

     “Cas,” Dean asks, pulling gently at Cas’ shoulders so he can look at him, but Cas refuses to leave. His grip is a vise around Dean’s waist, his tears pooling rapidly in the hollow over Dean’s collarbone. He smells like oil and plaster. 

     “Oh God,” Cas moans, grappling with Dean’s memory, trying to decide if the smell he’s smelling is really what Dean smelled like or if it’s something he’s made up in his absence. “Oh God, I miss you so much,” he cries, and Dean, though oblivious, holds Cas tighter and murmurs into his hair. 

      “I’m right here,” he says again and again. “I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here,” and what Cas wouldn’t give to believe it. 

     He awakes covered in sweat, tears soaking his face and his pillow. He is wrecked. He sobs there in bed for a while before calming down and trying to go back to sleep. He fails and eventually finds himself in the kitchen, a cup of coffee wrapped between his trembling fingers. He stares at the wall for a long time, telling himself Dean is happy, not to be sad for him. The tears never stop streaming down his face, and Cas finds himself fumbling for his phone, his fingers dialing her number before he knows what he’s doing. 

      “Cas?” she asks, her voice very obviously clouded by sleep. 

      “Jess,” he sobs, choking down the tears as much as he can. “I-I was with him. Jess, he was, he was there. He was holding me.” Cas bites down on his fist, sobbing silently, tears rushing down his face. Some detached part of his brain is telling him he shouldn’t be surprised. It’s been weeks since he’s broken down. It’s been long in the making. 

      “Cas,” Jess starts, audibly throwing the blankets away from her and leaving the warmth of her safe bed. 

      “How did you do this? It’s been six years, and it still hurts so much every god damned day. How did,” Cas hiccups. “How did you live after Sam?” Jess takes a long moment, one that Cas uses to continue to sob.

      “I found something else to live for,” she says finally. 

      “There’s nothing, Jess. Nothing else,” he tells her, wiping a hand across his face to catch the tears. “He was everything. I have nothing left.” 

      “ _No,_ ” Jess says firmly, quickly, because she knows what is going through his mind. She’s heard it a million times, first with Dean and then with Cas. “You have me and Adam and little Sammy. You have your job and your home and your bees. Maybe you just need something new.” Cas can hear her tapping her teeth with her fingernails as she thinks. “You should get a cat,” she says finally, excitedly, but Cas is hearing someone else’s voice, his voice. 

      _“What about a cat?” he asked, looking at Dean with hopeful eyes. He’d read on some website that the next step in a serious relationship was getting a pet together. He was terrified that Dean would freak, that he would revert back to his commitophobic ways, but Dean merely shook his head._

      _“Nah,” he said and took a drink of his coffee. Cas remembered they’d been at breakfast. “I’m allergic.” Cas looked away, but then Dean called his attention back, shocking him with his words. “What about a kid?”_

      “No,” Cas says finally, his tears suddenly stopping, his heart finally lightening. “I’m going to adopt a child.” 

     Jess had tried to talk him out of it. She’d said a child is hard enough with two parents. She’d said a child needs constant attention. She’d said a child is not a fix-all solution. Cas had shaken his head because that was not what this baby would be. This baby would be loved. This baby would be wanted. He’d told her that aside from Dean himself, the only other thing he’d ever wanted more was a child. Jess had known she would lose, so she’d taken her failure in stride and backed off. Cas had left the next morning for the nearest adoption agency, and now, he waits. 

     Outside the small cement building, a storm that’s been three days in the brewing has finally reared its ugly head. Rain cuts to the ground, and the sound would be deafening if it could be heard above the shattering thunder. Needless to say, Cas tries not to take the storm as a sign from the universe to stop fucking with fate. 

     The adoption agency isn’t very full. Apparently, very few people felt their child was worth enough to brave the storm, but Cas, Cas is sitting patiently for the consultant to call him back and put him on the list. Eventually, someone does call his name, but it comes from the front desk instead of the back rooms. 

      “Mr. Novak,” the man behind the desk calls, bringing Cas to his feet. He crosses the distance to the man in three large strides, his trench coat brushing his calves as he steps. 

      “Yes, that’s me,” Cas says as though him stepping forward when his name was called wasn’t obvious enough. The man’s nametag reads, “Garth,” but by the time Cas’ eyes have flicked back up to the man’s, he’s introducing himself. 

      “Hi, my name is Garth,” he says, stretching his hand up over counter. Cas shakes the man’s hand, his brow furrowed. 

      “Castiel,” he says, dropping Garth’s hand. “Is something wrong?” 

      “Uh,” Garth says looking back to the screen before him. “No big deal or anything, but there’s a problem with the information you gave us,” he says, and Cas’ heart sinks.

      “What?” he asks quickly, leaning his elbows against the counter. “What is it?” 

      “It’s just that we already have the name and number you’ve given us on file.”

      “I don’t know what that means,” Cas says after a moment of panic. “Does that mean I won’t be able to adopt?” He asks frantically, his mind already jumping to the worst case scenario. Ever since Dean, Cas has developed a habit of expecting the worst. 

      “No, no, friend, it just means someone put your information in already.” Garth begins tapping away at the keys of his keyboard. “You’re sure you’ve never been here before?” Garth asks, his hand darting from the keys to the mouse, his eyes still on the screen. 

      “Yes, I’m sure. I would remember.” Cas’ voice trembles. His fingers try to rub his headache away. _I wish you were here,_ he thinks, Dean’s goofy grin flashing before his closed eyes. 

      “Okay, here it is. Says you opened a joint profile with someone named…Winchester.” Cas’ heart stops. 

      “Winchester…” Cas mimics, barely able to get it out. 

      “Dean Winchester,” Garth clarifies, and the name sends Cas to flinching. Six years and sometimes he still can’t handle hearing the name. “Oh, I remember that fella! Came in here grinning ear to ear and said he wanted to secure a position for him and his fiancé. I would be correct in presuming you’re the said fiancé?” Cas smiles again. It was all so typically Dean. The all or nothing of Dean’s existence was always just as terrifying as it was exhilarating. 

      “I was,” Cas says softly, absently turning the ring he can’t bring himself to take off. “He passed away a few years ago.” Garth’s happy-go-lucky smile fades. Cas knows the feeling. 

      “I’m sorry to hear that. He seemed like a real good man,” Garth says, his fingers picking absently at his cuticles. Cas nods.

      “He was.” A long silence passes between them before Cas finds it in him to speak again. “So what does it mean that he signed us up?” 

      “Well, nothing really. It means you’re closer to getting your new baby than if you had signed up today, but since Dean just put your names and didn’t take it further, you still have to meet with our consultant to discuss the options.” 

      “Great, I’ll just go sit then,” Cas says, a smile ghosting onto his face. 

      “Actually, I think Ms. Mosley is ready for you now.” Garth flashes his eyes up to Cas with a smile. 

      “Thank you,” Cas says and steps deeper into the building, the storm still pissing outside around him. He walks down a long hallway before coming to a door marked _Missouri Mosley,_ and rapping gently on it with his knuckles. 

      “Castiel,” the woman drawls, though the door is shut between them. “Come in, please.” Cas pushes open the door and sees a smiling lady with smooth brown skin sitting behind a desk. Her hair is pulled back from her face with a scarf that matches the deep magenta of her pantsuit. She looks familiar to Cas. “Hi,” she says, rising to greet him. When Cas steps closer, she takes one of his hands in both of hers. He cannot decide where he knows her from. Her smile falls to sympathy when she speaks again. “I’m so sorry about Dean. I knew him and his brother well. Good boys…I even baby sat them once or twice while their dad was…well, otherwise unable.” 

      “Thank you,” Cas says with small smile, because he doesn’t know what else to say. He never does. At least now he knows where he knows her from…Dean’s funeral. The thought makes him ache. “I miss him every single day, but I’m ready to take the next step in taking my life back.” 

      “I respect that,” she says and waves her arm to one of the low, leather chairs across from her desk. Cas sits and crosses his ankle over his knee. “I just hope you don’t forget that boy,” she says, sitting in the chair next to Cas and letting a soft smile light her dark eyes. Cas freezes, his hands in the middle of brushing down his wild hair, his eyes locked firmly on hers in wonderment. He watches her for a long moment, taking in the curve of her round face, the pull of her brown eyes. He’s fighting away the aches of imaging a moment when he’s forgotten Dean Winchester. 

      “I could never forget I met him…” he murmurs finally, but his voice doesn’t sound the same as the last time he uttered those words. The last time, he was staring Dean dead in the face swearing that he was about to lose him. The last time he’d said those words, he had been so completely lost because he knew what he wanted and he thought he knew what Dean wanted and the two weren’t adding up. Now, he is so completely lost because he knows what he wants but Dean’s not here anymore. He doesn’t realize he’s been staring at Missouri until her voice snatches him out of his thoughts. 

      “You really loved that boy didn’t you?” she asks softly, and Cas blinks his way into a smile. 

      “Didn’t everyone?” he asks, wringing his hands together again and again. 

      “No,” Missouri scoffs with a fond smile. “Most people who first met him thought he was arrogant and thoughtless.” Cas snorts, his head rocking in a nod. 

      “Even I thought that some days,” Cas agrees with a grin. He twists the engagement ring slowly. _Love you, Cas,_ it reads inside in Dean’s shaky scrawl. Missouri smiles. 

      “Those who took the time to know him, though,” she continues softly, her amused grin slipping into a bittersweet curve of the lips. “They saw he was loving and loyal and humble. You saw all the good in him, didn’t you, son?” Cas nods slowly, his eyes falling to his wringing hands. If he stops their motion, they will tremble. 

      “Yes ma’am,” he says finally. 

      “You loved him like no one else did.” Cas says nothing. He doesn’t want to talk about all the ways he loved Dean. He doesn’t want to talk about how he still dreams of him, how he still hates himself for not finding a way to call that night, how he stills in the shower and pretends the hot water spraying down on him is Dean’s lips. He does not want to talk about all the great and terrible ways that he has loved and been loved in return, so instead, he nods. 

      “Yes ma’am,” he says again in an even quieter voice. 

      “He loved you too, you know,” Missouri says, but Cas feels tears pricking in his eyes. 

      “Yes ma’am,” Cas whispers finally, his voice barely even there. 

      “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she says softly as a single tear makes its way down Cas’ cheek. He wipes it away quickly with a shaky laugh. 

      “It’s okay. I just miss him a lot.” 

      “I’m sure you do. We all do.” Missouri offers a smile, one that Cas tries to return. A long moment passes. Cas tries to hear Dean between the beats of his heart, but Missouri speaks before he can hear the voice. “So, I take it you’re here about the profile Dean made some odd years ago?” Cas nods. “It’s a bit unorthodox to let couples sign before they’re actually ready to adopt, but Dean was practically family, so I bent the rules a little for you boys. You actually hit the top of the list a few months ago, but I wasn’t sure if you still wanted to adopt since Dean…” Missouri trails off, but Cas knows what she’s trying to say. 

      “I didn’t either until recently,” Cas admits quietly. He runs a hand through his hair. 

      “Well, if you’re sure now, we have a pregnant woman in Cleveland waiting for you.” Missouri smiles, and Cas finds himself smiling in return. 

      “Really?” he murmurs, tears rushing back to his eyes without his say so. “That’s, that’s fantastic. What do I need to do?” Cas asks, and as Missouri gives him paperwork and parenting advice and an extravagant amount of coupons for diapers because _yes, son, the baby will need more diapers than you’ll ever even want to count,_ Cas, for the first time in six years, finds himself excited. He finds himself downright giddy. As Cas leaves, Missouri gives him an approximation, one that says in about five months, he’ll be able to bring home the baby he’ll raise as his own, as his and Dean’s. 

     He goes to the baby store after he leaves the agency. The storm still crackles around him, but he drives through it. He calls Jessica on the way and beams about the little baby he’ll be getting. He tells her about the baby proofing things he has no idea how to install and of all the gender neutral colors and clothes he buys because he doesn’t know what the baby will be yet. Jess smiles because even though she still thinks it’s a bad idea, even though she’s 3000 miles away clear across the country, she can see just how happy even the thought of this baby makes Cas. She loves Cas, so of course she’ll support whatever ideas he has, _especially_ if they make him as happy as this baby already has. 

     The months pass. Cas turns the library into a baby safe haven, complete with his pre-Dean room converted into a nursery with mobiles and a crib and pink walls because _she’s a girl._ Missouri stopped by one night, a pink balloon in tow that read _It’s a Girl!_ and Cas cried. He painted the room the next day, and now, the shelves are lined with bottles and the few empty aisles downstairs are packed with diapers because after a few nights of watching baby Sammy, he sees that babies use a shit ton—no pun intended—of diapers. Now, every day when he unlocks the door to the library, instead of being smothered by the emptiness that Dean left, he is greeted by the smell of baby lotion and plastic toys, and he is not sad. He is excited. He wants this baby so much. He loves this little girl so much. He wants this baby to love him so much. 

     Jess surprises him the night before the birthmother’s due date. She appears on his doorstep, her tiny family in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. 

      “Drink up,” she says with a grin, passing him the bottle. “And sleep well tonight, because it will be the last you’ll get of either for a long, _long_ time.” Cas grins and pulls her to him in a hug. So what if he’s crying a little? He is no longer using her shoulders to catch tears of pain and sadness. He is using her shoulders to catch tears of joy. He has not been this happy sine he woke up every morning next to Dean. 

     When he releases Jess, Adam shakes Cas’ hand firmly, a small smile on his usually stoic face. Cas only knew Sam through Jess and Dean, but he thinks that Sam would be happy to see her with someone like Adam. Jess smiles at Cas once again before hoisting little Sammy higher onto her hip and walking towards the stairs, leaving Adam and Cas to stand in the threshold. 

      “You know,” Adam says finally, pushing his hands deep into his pockets and swaying back on his heels. “Jessica’s been real… doubtful about this whole adoption business, but I think it’s great.” Adam smiles at Cas, and Cas grins back. 

      “Thank you, Adam,” he says, and with that, the two head to the stairs, a comfortable silence hanging over them. They find Jess in the living room, turning on a colorful children’s movie for Sammy. Adam leans against the frame of the door to watch her, but Cas moves on, sitting next to Sammy and scooping him into his lap. The child coos, but Cas only grins. Soon, the child he holds will be his. 

     Everyone in the library that night laughs, and they tell stories that everyone has heard before but no one seems to mind. They talk and laugh for hours, but the party still breaks up early. Sammy gets fussy right after dinner, so Jess kisses Cas goodnight and takes her small family to the rooms that Cas always has made up for them. Cas, though tired from his day, lays in bed for a while, unable to sleep. He thinks of Dean, but the thoughts don’t hurt. 

      _I miss you,_ he thinks, as though Dean can hear him. _I miss you so much. I wish you were here. This is going to be so hard without you._ A long moment passes, the air burning its way into and out of Cas’ lungs. _Our baby girl,_ he thinks, a smile ghosting onto his face as he stares blankly at the empty side of the bed. _I love her so much,_ he deems, and lets sleep overcome him. 

     If he dreams, when the shrill ringing wakes him, he doesn’t remember what of. All he knows is that the dark is blinding and the noise filling it is obnoxious as hell. He groans and scrubs a hand down his face, too asleep to comprehend that the ringing is his phone. He lies in the dark for a moment trying to connect those dots, and when he does, he’s jumping out of bed and scrambling to the desk where he left his phone last night. 

      “Hello,” he asks, scared that the call might be an emergency. 

      “Cas, I know you aren’t asleep at such a joyous hour,” a warm voice says, thick with a smile. He glances at the alarm clock. It reads 6:23. 

      “I don’t know how an hour before noon could be joyous,” he mutters, scrubbing the hand down his face again. 

      “Castiel, do you understand who this is?” The voice asks again, to which Cas pulls the phone away from his face to check the caller ID. 

      “Mosley Adoption,” he reads out loud, a second passing before he jerks the phone back to his face, sleep gone. “Missouri! What’s going on? Is it the baby? Is she okay?” 

      “Cas, you calm yourself down and get to the hospital. Your little girl is being born!” Missouri lets out a joyful squeal, and Cas follows the sentiment by laughing and thanking her again and again before hanging up and running out of his room in his boxers and t-shirt. 

      “Jess,” he shouts, banging at her door, not thinking about the baby or the fact that they are all asleep. She appears at the door in a heartbeat, accompanied a moment later by the sound of Sammy crying. “It’s time,” he tells her, barely able to keep himself from deteriorating with joy. “It’s time! She’s being born!” The annoyance on Jess’ face falls away at his words, replaced by a squeal and her arms flinging around his neck. The laugh together, Cas’ face in Jess’ neck and Jess’ face buried in his shoulder. 

      “What are you still doing here?” she asks suddenly, pulling away and wiping at the tears in her eyes. “You should be at the hospital!” 

      “Oh!” he gasps, reeling away from her and practically sprinting to the stairs. 

      “Cas!” she calls, and he turns on his heels, eyes wide because _holy shit, my baby girl is being born!_ “You need pants!” Cas looks down to see that she is right, he is still wearing only his boxers. He laughs a giddy laugh and runs back to his room, stumbling around as he tries to run and pull his pants and shoes on. By the time that he’s dressed, he emerges from his room to find Jess ready too, hair pulled back in a quick braid, pajamas replaced by sturdy jeans and a cream sweater that makes her blonde hair and blue eyes look lighter than they are. 

      “You’re coming?” he asks, and she furrows her brow at him. 

      “What kind of a question is that? Of course I’m coming. Adam’s going to stay here with Sam, so come on.” Cas stares at her a moment longer, his eyes burning with tears. 

      “Thank you, Jess,” he murmurs, and he means more than just for coming to the hospital with him. It is in this moment that he realizes that, while he spent the last six years thinking he had no one, she was here all along, supporting him, holding him up without him ever realizing it. 

      “Come on, Cas,” she says, her smile soft because she knows he means more than this. She knows he loves her. 

     The ride to the hospital takes an instantaneous eternity. Cas tries to stay under the speed limit, but his baby girl is being born. Jess grips his hand the whole way, and when they finally get there, Cas sprints inside. He practically runs past the desk in his hurry to see his daughter. 

      “Excuse me, sir, you need to sign in!” the woman at the desk calls, so Cas skids to a halt and scribbles his name on the clipboard she’s holding out. He slaps the sticker to his shirt and picks his sprint back up, swinging the corners to the maternity ward. Jess follows close behind him. They find Missouri in the maternity ward, sitting in the waiting room with a clipboard of papers. 

      “Cas,” she says, a smile on her face when she sees him skid in. 

      “Missouri, is she here yet? Did I miss it?” Cas asks, his hands shaking. 

      “Not yet. The mother is dilated seven centimeters. It shouldn’t be long now though. You can fill out these last few papers while you wait.” Cas sighs and sits next to Missouri, taking the pen and signing his name everywhere Missouri asks him to. Jess sits beside him, bouncing her knee impatiently. Cas shares the sentiment. They sit in that waiting room for what feels like days, Cas tightly gripping Jess’ hand once he finishes the paperwork, Jess shaking her knee steadily. Finally, _finally_ someone comes out and looks around the waiting room. 

      “Castiel Novak,” they say, and Cas immediately stands, followed shortly after by Jess and Missouri. 

      “Yes, that’s me. Is everything okay?” Cas asks, dropping Jess’ hand and stepping forward. 

      “I’m Dr. Roberts, the ward’s attending physician. I just wanted to let you know that your daughter was born perfectly normal, happy, and healthy. She’s seven pounds, four ounces, and nineteen inches long.” Cas feels the tears well in his eyes, the joy grow in his heart. “Would you like to see her?” 

      “Yes,” Cas laughs, bringing a hand to his chest “Yes, please.” Dr. Roberts smiles and waves her arm towards a set of doors. 

      “The Daddy Room is right that way. When you get there, tell the nurse on duty your name and she’ll show you your daughter.” Dr. Roberts offers them one last smile before walking away. 

      “Cas,” Jess asks, but he’s preparing himself, swallowing down the tears and the joy so he can get his limbs to work. 

      “Let’s go see her,” he says finally, giving the women beside him one last smile before starting towards the doors. 

     The Daddy Room isn’t really a room, and it isn’t really for the daddies. The Daddy Room is simply the hallway outside the nursery, across from which is the nurse’s station. However, dads are swarming the place. Some have their faces pressed against the glass, others talk to one another, some talk to the nurses on duty about their children, while others sit in the lobby a few rooms away, still waiting for their children to be brought in. Cas freezes outside the window, Jess by his side. He takes a long look at each of the babies in pink, some sleeping, some staring, some crying. He doesn’t notice a presence step up beside him. 

      “Which one is yours?” a man asks, and Cas looks over to him with watery eyes. 

      “I can’t tell,” he says with a shaky laugh. “But isn’t she beautiful?” The man next to Cas laughs and steps away. Cas looks to Jess, a smile of honest to God joy filling his face. 

      “Let’s find out which one is yours,” she murmurs and pulls Cas to the nurse’s station. The lady on duty smiles when they approach. 

      “Hi,” she says, a smile on her lips. “Is there something I can help you with?” 

      “Yes. Dr. Roberts said that you could help me find my daughter. I’m adopting.” 

      “Oh, of course. Can you tell me the birth mother’s name?” She asks, and Cas does. She types at the computer before her. She pauses, and looks up at Castiel, a smile teasing her lips. “Come on, I’ll show you.” She steps out from behind her desk and around Cas and Jess. They follow her to the window. “She’s on the third row.” Cas’ eyes follow her words excitedly, jumping over the cribs of babies. “The fourth little girl from the left,” and Cas sees her, all seven pounds, four ounces, nineteen inches of her sleeping, tiny body. Tears leap to his eyes. 

      “Look at her, Jess,” he chokes out, laughter bubbling in his chest. “Look at her,” he whispers, but that one is for Dean. 

      “She’s beautiful,” Jess whispers, putting her head on Cas’ shoulder. They stand there staring at her for a long time until Missouri finds them with their faces pressed against the glass. 

      “I see you found her,” she says, and Cas tears his eyes away from his daughter long enough to spare her a smile. 

      “Third row, fourth little girl,” he says, sliding his eyes back to her. 

      “She’s precious. How would you like to hold her?” Missouri smiles at Cas, but he is nodding and crying before he realizes it. Missouri leads Cas and Jess into the hallway and deposits them in a room dimmed and warm. He sits in a stiff arm chair with Jess next to him and waits. 

      “I can’t believe this is finally happening,” Cas laughs, running a hand through his hair. 

      “He would be happy,” Jess murmurs, a smile on her face. Cas looks at her, and for the first time this whole day, he feels sad. He smiles anyway though. 

      “He would be ecstatic. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself.” Jess smiles, and at that moment, the door opens and a nurse comes in, a pink bundle cradled gently in her arms. Cas scoots unconsciously to the edge of his seat, craning his neck to get a better look at her. Jess drops to her knees next to Cas’ chair, but he hardly notices. All he can see is the nurse leaning that tiny bundle closer and closer before she is finally, _finally_ in his arms. 

     Staring down at her, he forgets every unhappiness he’s ever known. He forgets his parents abandoning him. He forgets finding his sister dead. He forgets losing Dean. He forgets every disappointment along the way. Staring down at her, her tiny blue eyes staring back, he thinks every heartache up until now has been to balance the sheer happiness of this moment. 

      “Hello,” he chokes out, tears streaming down his face. She forces one of her tiny hands out of her bundle, waving it around as if to say hello. Cas slips his pinky into her grip. “I’m your new daddy, and I love you more than anything.” He runs his thumb and index finger along her velvety cheeks, crying all the while. Jess reaches out to touch her as well, as if to say that she were real and not just a figment of their imaginations. “You’re so beautiful,” he tells her, and leans down to kiss her forehead softly. He wishes he had shaved for her. 

      “Sir,” the nurse says. He hadn’t realized she was still in here. “It’s time for her to eat.” His eyes widen because he just got her, and he doesn’t want them to take her away for any reason. “Would you like to feed her?” she asks, but all Cas can do is nod, his eyes falling back to his baby girl’s. She is looking at him curiously, her gummy mouth opened. 

     The nurse comes back a few moments later, a bottle in one hand and a cloth in the other. She sits in the vacant chair beside Cas and instructs him through the feeding and burping of his daughter. 

      “It looks like she might fall asleep. Would you like me to take her back to the nursery?” The nurse asks, but Cas laughs. 

      “Are you kidding?” he laughs, eyes still teary. “Her sleeping is the easy part.” The nurse smiles and stands, leaving Cas and Jess and the baby alone in the dark and warm room. 

      “Have you thought of a name?” Jess asks, running her hand over the baby’s face. 

      “Dean wanted a Mary,” Cas murmurs, watching her blinks grow slower and slower before closing for good. “So Mary she’ll be,” he finishes, wishing, not for the first time that Dean were here with him. 

      “Cas,” Jess says softly, waiting until he has torn his eyes away from his daughter, from Mary, to speak. “This isn’t Dean’s baby.” She says the words softly, but they are still knives in his chest. “I mean that in the kindest way possible. I just wonder...what are you going to raise this little girl to believe?” Cas takes a long moment to respond, his eyes falling back to Mary. 

      “I loved Dean, Jess,” he says, leaning back in his seat, moving slowly as not to jostle the tiny miracle in his arms. 

      “I know you did, I just—” but Cas cuts her off with a shake of his head. 

      “Let me explain. I loved him with every ounce of my being. I still do. He was my everything. He was the reason to wake up in the morning, the reason to go to sleep at night. He was it for me. It doesn’t matter to me that our love was never legally recognized. This little girl was supposed to be _ours,_ so I’ll raise her as such. I’ll tell her that she has a mother and a father that couldn’t keep her. I’ll tell her that she has two fathers who wanted her more than anything. I’ll tell her that one of those fathers died. I’ll tell her the truth. She deserves that, especially if I’m all she’s getting.” 

      “Don’t say it like that, like you’re something less or that you aren’t enough.” 

      “Am I? You’ve had some real reservations about me adopting this baby.” 

      “Yes. You are more than enough. My reservations were never about your abilities; they were about this very thing.” Her voice is getting heated. He shushes her softly. Mary is sleeping soundly, but she may not stay that way what with all this arguing. “Cas, you can’t just build her this hero. You can’t just tell her about Dean and then snatch him away from her.” 

      “So what? I’m just supposed to pretend he never existed.” 

      “You’re supposed to give her what you can, not offer her what you can’t.” 

      “That’s not fair,” Cas says, his blood heating slowly, frustration uncurling from his gut. “What about all the fathers who died before their baby was born? Do you expect the mothers to tell their children that they didn’t have a father?” 

      “No, of course not. That’s different.” He can see Jess flustering. 

      “Okay, well what about all the mothers who died during child labor? What of them? Are they no longer existent because their baby never met them?” Cas sees her eyes visibly darken. 

      “Stop it. That isn’t what I mean, and you know it.” Cas looks down to Mary. “Don’t you think it will be confusing for her?” 

      “No. It’s a closed adoption. When I leave here with her, we’ll never hear from her birth parents again. All she’ll have is me, me and Dean.” 

      “See that’s just it. She won’t have Dean. Dean is gone.” 

      “Do you think I don’t know that?” he asks, snapping his eyes to hers. “Do you think I don’t wake up every damned morning knowing that part of me is gone? Do you think I don’t spend the vast majority of my time wishing there was something, _anything_ I could do to bring him back?” 

      “Cas,” she murmurs, but he is shaking his head. 

      “She’s his too,” he says, not wanting to hear her try to make it better because she can’t. The only thing that could make it better is sleeping in his arms. 

      “Cas,” she says again, this time exasperated instead of apologizing. 

      “Why?” he asks, cutting her off. “Why is she any less his than she’s mine?” 

      “Because she’s not even yours!” she half shouts, throwing up her hands in exasperation. They both still as they realize what she said. “I,” she starts, blinking, her usually pretty face screwing down into a desperate frown. “I didn’t mean…” 

      “Jess,” he says, eyes cutting down to Mary. “I love this little girl. I’ve known her for all of two hours, and already I’d give anything for her. Just because I didn’t conceive her doesn’t mean I don’t love her. Family doesn’t end with blood. You of all people should know that.” 

      “I’m sorry, Cas,” she says, looking appropriately shamed. “I didn’t mean it like that,” and she lets it drop. 

     Jess leaves when visiting hours end to go home and see Sammy and Adam. Cas stays the night, and never once does he put Mary down or let anyone else hold her. When she’s awake, he talks to her, telling her about her room and the library and how loved she’ll be. When she’s asleep, he sits perfectly still, gazing down at her with every muscle tensed as not to wake her. He doesn’t sleep at all that night. 

     When he finally gets to take her home, he cradles him to her and points to her every room, every new face. He shows her the sculpture, the one that brought him back to Dean, and she is fascinated by the lifelike clay before her. 

      “Those are your daddies,” he tells her, pointing with his free hand to himself, brushing absently over the wings. It has been years since he has been down here. The garage smells like Dean, like oil and plaster. He catches sight of the canvas covered Impala on his way out and something twists in his chest. He looks down to Mary to stave off the tears. Jess and Adam stay for the first couple of days to help him get into the swing of things, but after those days, they take their child and leave him with hugs and Mary. 

     He’s fine. Really, he is, and he continues to be fine with every year that she grows. He is fine in the house without him. He is fine with his clothes boxed away and his car covered in canvas. He is fine because Mary babbles in her sleep. He is fine because she swims as well as she walks. He is fine because of the shock of red hair she grows. He is fine because she is laughter to fill the silence, she is warmth to fill the bed on stormy nights, she is a million questions and sticky hands and toothy grins, and she is his life. He is fine every day, waking up and brushing his teeth with bubble gum toothpaste and showering with pink rubber ducks. He is fine. 

     The first day in a long time that he isn’t undoubtedly fine comes with the question that he knew she’d eventually ask. She is almost five and has been attending preschool for nearly two weeks. 

      “Why don’t I have a mommy like the other kids?” she asks, half-asleep on Cas’ chest, her eyelashes brushing his collarbone with every slowing blink. 

      “You do,” he says, pushing her red hair back with the flat of his hands. He feels sure that one day it will lighten back to a strawberry blonde. “You were adopted. Do you know what that means?” Cas rocks the small child slowly back and forth. 

      “Means that instead of a stork dropping me off you picked me out at a store,” she tells him. Her voice is sleepy. She will not be awake much longer. Cas laughs a little. 

      “Well, it means that the mommy and daddy that had you before, for whatever reason, didn’t think they could take care of you, so they gave you to me.” 

      “So if you’re my daddy now, why don’t I have a mommy?” 

      “You have another daddy instead,” Cas tells her softly. He sees those green eyes. Mary pushes herself up, tiny hands still resting against his neck. 

      “Can I meet him?” she asks excitedly, making him flinch slightly. 

      “I wish you could, baby girl,” he tells her with a sigh. “Your other dad is in Heaven,” he tells her, and her tiny lip quivers. 

      “Did he not want me either?” she asks, tear filling her eyes. 

      “Oh, honey,” Cas says, pulling her back against his chest. He feels her hot tears burn his shirt. “No, he wanted you more than anything. Your dad loves you. He wanted you so, _so_ much.” 

      “Then why did he go?” she asks, tear still sliding from her eyes. Cas doesn’t know. 

      “Do you want to see a picture of him, little bee?” he asks, kissing her head gently with the nickname. She nods into his chest. He smiles and stands, her skinny arms roping tighter around him as if he’d ever let her fall. His hands automatically straighten the tutu she’s been insisting she wear for the past three days as he walks her into his room. 

     It no longer smells like Dean. Instead, it smells like baby lotion and stain reducing laundry detergent and dust on Dean’s favorite leather. He sets Mary gently on the bed before he turns away from her with a smile, walking to the closet and pulling a box down labeled “Dean”. He wants to make a joke about always being the one to pull Dean from the closet, and he would if there were anyone other than a four-year-old to appreciate it. He sits at the edge of the bed, box balanced on his knees. Mary scrambles over, hanging over his shoulder as he pulls the box open. The picture is right on top. You know the one, the one with Dean grinning while Cas laughs, the one he took with him to that bridge, the one Cas claimed from his car after his death. He pulls it out and holds it in his hands, staring at the freckles and the eyes and the smile. It hits him like it always does. 

      “I want to see Daddy,” Mary whines softly, and Cas doesn’t know if she means him or Dean. He smiles down at the picture again before turning and handing her the frame. He watches her glow as she takes the old couple in, their honest joy and loving eyes. “That’s you,” she says, pointing to the laughing Cas in the picture. He nods. “And that’s daddy.” He nods again. “He’s pretty,” she giggles, and Cas laughs. 

      “Yes, he was.” Cas brushes her hair back again. “You would have loved him.” 

      “Did you love him?” she asks, and Cas feels the tears burn in his eyes. He swallows them down. 

      “Very much,” he tells her, spinning the ring absently. 

      “As much as you love me?” she asks, big blue eyes curious. 

      “I could never love anyone as much as I love you,” he tells her, and honestly, it’s true. He loved Dean in a different way than he loves Mary, a more passionate way, but call him a terrible person for loving her more than he’s ever loved anything in his life. It wouldn’t change anything. 

      “Then I love him too,” she decides resolutely, and Cas smiles, pulling her to him and kissing her hair. 

      “Come on, little bee. You can look more tomorrow. For now, let’s go to bed.” He puts the box of Dean’s things on the desk before turning back to Mary who is once again staring at the photo of her two dads. When he approaches her again, she stares a moment longer before offering him the frame. He doesn’t realize it, but for the first time in more than ten years, the photo is finally taken back home to its place on his nightstand. 

     Cas sleeps with Mary’s tiny feet glued to his thigh, her skinny fingers threaded through his. He dreams of Dean. 

     The very next day, Jess and Sammy surprise them at the door. She holds a small bag for him and a small bag for herself and a grin like no other. She drops their bags just inside the door before throwing her arms around Cas. 

      “What are you doing here?” He laughs into her hair. 

      “Adam went out of town for a conference and Sam’s been driving me crazy so I thought I’d come here and get wasted!” she says, before pulling away. “I’m kidding. I’ve just been missing my little Mary Beary,” she says, stepping around Cas and chasing after Mary who came down the stairs at the sound of Sammy calling for her. She giggles in delight and begins running through the aisles, Jess chasing behind her. 

      “Well what about you?” he asks Sammy, squatting down to his level. “Can I have a hug?” Sammy immediately steps closer so Cas can get his arms around the child. He’s not much older than Mary, a year, maybe, and they get along well. When Jess has finally caught Mary, smothered her in kisses and giggle inducing tickles, and released her again, the children go off to play while Jess and Cas follow them upstairs and into the kitchen. They sit at the table drinking coffee, chatting, and listening to the sounds of their children playing in the next room for a long while. Eventually, Mary and Sammy come wandering in, both crawling into their respective parents’ laps. 

      “I’m hungry, daddy,” Mary says, turning and pulling gently at his ears like she sometimes does when she wants attention. 

      “Chicken nuggets,” Cas suggests, watching her eyes light up like he knew they would. 

      “Yeah,” she and Sammy cheer together. He laughs and stands, setting Mary down in his seat so he can make her lunch. 

      “Are chicken nuggets okay for you, or do you want grown up food?” he asks Jess, earning a laugh in response. 

      “You’re never too old for chicken nuggets,” she tells him in a matter-of-fact manner. Cas rolls his eyes with a grin and cooks the chicken nuggets, pouring the mass onto a plate when they’re done and setting it before the hungry children before turning to retrieve the ketchup and plates, not that by the time he turns back around, the children seem perturbed not to have them…Jess either for that matter. He grins affectionately at his little family before scooping Mary back into his lap and eating his share of chicken nuggets. 

      “So,” Jess starts as they eat. “What’s new small-fry?” Mary looks up from her food, eyes wide. 

      “I have two daddies!” She tells Jess excitedly, practically bouncing in Cas’ lap. “Did you know that?” 

      “I did know that. I didn’t know you did though,” she tells Mary, a false smile on her face. When Mary starts to tell Jess all about her other daddy, Jess’ eyes flick back up to Cas’. He cannot read what they are saying, but Cas knows what he’s trying to say back. _Just listen to her,_ he’s trying to tell her. _Listen to how much she loves him._

     When the kids are done eating, they scurry back off to whatever game they had invented, leaving the adults alone again. They stare at one another in a vibrating silence before Jess clears her throat and speaks. 

      “I thought you decided you weren’t going to tell her about Dean,” she says quietly, her voice holding the control only a mother can. 

      “No, you thought I shouldn’t tell her, but I never agreed.” His voice is sure like only a father’s can be. 

      “Cas, this isn’t good for her,” she says with a sigh. 

      “Did you hear her, Jess?” he asks, begging her to see because he really needs her with him on this. “Did you hear how much she loves him already? You can’t ask me to take him away from her.” 

      “That’s the point. She loves him, exactly as you knew she would, exactly as everyone did. He’s not _here,_ Cas. It’s not fair to her.” She is trying to make him see just as hard as he’s trying to make her see. They are both desperate in their idea of what’s best for Mary. 

      “Isn’t it better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all?” he asks her, attempting to smile to cover his shaking. 

      “Cas,” she says, clearly exasperated. 

      “Please, Jess, just trust me on this,” he asks, begs really. They stare at each other for another long moment before Jess drops her eyes with a sigh. 

      “Fine,” she murmurs, and Cas smiles. 

      “Thank you. You’re beautiful, you know that?” Jess lets out a small smile, her eyes still on her hands. They stay in the kitchen for a long while before the kids come back, bouncing about a movie they want to all to watch together. Cas follows his daughter into the living room and sits where she directs him to, holding out his arms to her when she gets him situated. Mary grins and crawls into his lap, passing him the remote so he can get it going. They sit on the couch and watch the movie, Mary in his lap, Sammy in Jess’ at the other end of the couch, until he feels Mary begin to get restless. He knows soon she’ll either be asking questions or leaving completely. As if on cue, Mary turns to Cas and opens her little mouth. 

      “Do you think Daddy would like this movie?” she asks, surprising him. He blinks down to her for a moment before looking to the TV. It is a princess movie. Dean would probably make fun of it. He would probably also watch it day in and day out just for Mary. 

      “Yes,” he tells her, squeezing her lightly. 

      “Which person do you think would be his favorite?” 

      “The princess, of course.” 

      “Why?” 

      “Because she’s beautiful, just like you.” 

      “What was Daddy’s favorite movie?” 

      “He liked grown-up movies.” 

      “What kind of grown-up movies?” 

      “Funny ones.” 

      “I like funny things. Did Daddy know any funny jokes?” 

      “No. He only knew cheesy jokes.” 

      “I know funny jokes! Wanna hear one?” 

      “Sure.” 

      “What’s a pirate’s favorite letter?” 

      “I don’t know. What?” 

      “No, you’re supposed to say, ‘Is it R?’.” 

      “Oh, I’m sorry. Is it R?” 

      “You might think it’s R but it’s the sea.” She giggles. She cackles. Cas holds her tightly to him and grins. On and on this conversation goes, loud enough for them and quiet enough for Jess and Sammy. She asks about Dean again and again, and Cas answers as best he can. By the time the movie is over, Sam has swept Mary away for another round of play, leaving Jess and Cas alone in the living room. It is silent for a long while. 

      “You were right,” she says finally. “It took me five years to realize it, but you were right. She needs him just as much as she needs you.” Jess won’t look at him. “I’m sorry, Cas.” 

      “It’s okay. I knew all along,” he tells her, looking down to his hands. They are sparkly from Mary’s latest piece of artwork. The glitter seems to stick to everything but the paper. 

      “I want her to know about him…If there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know.” Cas finally manages to catch her eye. 

      “Thank you, Jess.” 

     The years pass quickly. When Mary turns ten, she has outgrown her pink room, insisting that purple was a much more _mature_ color. He painted her room the next day. At thirteen, Cas calls Jess, and she flies in to be the mother Cas never knew she needed. Some aspects of raising a daughter just can’t be taught by a man. Cas is flecked with gray by the time Mary turns sixteen, spinning around in her prom dress, waiting for her date to pick her up. That night, he muses to wonder what Dean would think of the floppy-haired boy that picked their daughter up. By the time she is eighteen, dressed up in her robes and ropes, she is sporting the strawberry blonde hair he always felt sure she would have. She throws her hat into the air with a joyous leap, and Cas’ tears slide down with the hats falling back to earth. At nineteen, she kisses the last of her dads goodbye, her car packed and aimed for Stanford. He still isn’t sure how she convinced him to let her move all the way to the other side of the country. It probably went something like this. 

      _Please daddy._ [Cue puppy dog eyes and quivering lips] **No.** _But daddy. Aunt Jess will only be a few miles away._ [Cue the intensifying of puppy dog eyes and lip quivering.] **No.** _Dad would let me._ [Cue pouting and guilt trips.] _**Dean Winchester, you are such a bad influence on our daughter.**_ **Fine, Mary.**

     He doesn’t want to watch her leave, but she promises she’ll be back, and he trusts her. He always has. When her tail lights have faded into the distance, Cas realizes that for the first time in nineteen years, he is alone. He could do anything. He could read a book. He could take a bubble bath. He could walk around naked, yanking his chain at every turn for all that anyone else is concerned. He doesn’t though. Instead, he climbs the stairs, slower now because, hell, he’s almost 50. 

     When he gets to the top, he turns for his room and climbs between the sheets. The picture, after thirteen years, is still standing proudly on his bedside table. Cas knows Mary sneaks it away sometimes when she’s missing him, but it always returns right back where it is supposed to be. He reaches out and pulls it to him, staring at the faded edges and the worn frame before moving on to Him. Dean. Mr. Flirty Smile and a Great Ass. Mr. Laughter and a Huge Heart. Mr. Winchester Looking at His Best Friend Cas. 

     He smiles at Dean. He feels sure the years would have treated Dean better than they did him, probably only deepening the crinkles around his eyes, the lines around his mouth. Cas imagines flecks of gray at his temple, but he is still smiling. Mr. Scruffy Jaw and Eyes of Green Apple. Mr. Freckles and Slightly Bowed Legs. Mr. Winchester Looking at the Love of His Life. He is grinning, as he always is when Cas looks at the picture. This picture is how Cas sees him now, joyful eyes, radiant smile, staring at Cas like he was the world. 

     He’ll sleep with the photo tonight, but tomorrow morning, it will go back on that nightstand. That is where it belongs. That is where it needs to be when Cas wakes up to silence and needs a reminder why he woke up at all. That is where it needs to be when Mary misses her fathers and comes to find them. That is where it needs to be for all the moments they need Dean. 

     They will be fine without him, really and truly. The bills will get paid and the children will get bathed and the family will get fed. They will be fine even when the silences stretch too long, when the cold becomes too cold, when the drive becomes too long. They will survive without him because they have one another, but sometimes…sometimes they just need to see him smile.

**Author's Note:**

>      I researched adoption. I really did, but the process is long and complicated so I apologize if I got it wrong. 
> 
>      Thank you all for reading. You give me life <3


End file.
